Never the Right One
by Dream Ablaze
Summary: A long time after breaking Sora's heart, Yamato finally returns home, claiming he's changed for the better. But will Sora give him a second chance? Kind of Sorato. Just a little oneshot... I might add another chapter later if people like it. :3


**Never the Right One**

He jammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he walked down the street. It was cold, and, like usual, he wasn't dressed for it. If he still lived with his overprotective mother, she'd have loaded him with jackets before he went out so that he'd leave a distinct trail of sweat behind him as he walked down the pavement. However, this wasn't the case, as he hadn't lived with his mother since he was little. The result was a multitude of goosebumps, as well as the fine, light hairs that scattered his arms, rising. It was no wonder. He wore only an old pair of threadbare jeans and a vintage t-shirt. A wan smile stretched across his face as he looked up at the gloomy sky. _You'll never learn, will you?_ he asked himself. Quickly, though, he brought his head back down to earth. He didn't need to have any more accidents.

His dark blue eyes keenly regarded the signs of the shops he passed, though they never quite fell across the right one.

Where was it? He'd walked down here so many times before. Yes, it was a long time ago, and yes, it did look different, but he should be able to locate a simple shop, right? But it didn't seem he could find it even if his life depended on it.

He read the names of the stores in his head each time he saw one. _Damn,_ he thought, after a few blocks. _It's never the right one._

He continued on, dejection growing with each wrong shop he passed. Just when he was about to give up and ask for directions, he spotted it.

_Blue Moon Café_, it read. There it was, looming just a few stores down. It still had the same familiar front window, with the fat cerulean crescent moon painted over the glass. The paint had begun to peel on the moon a bit. This was where they always used to go, but back then, it was new. The moon on the front had smelled like fresh paint every time he passed it, and now it was ready for a new paint job. It was funny how things like that could happen, how time could pass so quickly before you even realized it. And then, when you did realize, it was almost too late. Or was it already too late? Did he even get an 'almost'?

It suddenly dawned on him that his hands were shaking. He rolled them up into fists inside his pockets, but still they trembled.

He entered the café. As he glanced at the big neon clock on the wall, he realized he was early. Early enough to order a hot drink and try to stop shaking so much. In the back of his mind, he knew the shaking wasn't from the cold, but from something else entirely. But he tried not to dwell on that.

What was that drink he'd always gotten here? It was his favorite, but he'd never been able to order it anywhere else. It was probably just a specialty drink, but he remembered he'd always gotten it here. He looked over the large board behind the counter, checking for his favorite drink. But none of the names seemed to click.

Then, suddenly, he remembered. He'd always had the White Chocolate and Cinnamon Mocha. Just recalling its name evoked some kind of Pavlovian response with him. Except instead of drooling as Pavlov's dog had done, a reminiscent smile merely appeared on his face before it faded away again in a manner of seconds.

It didn't mean anything to remember the name of the drink if he couldn't find it on the menu. Like before, he glanced over everything. And, like before, he couldn't find it, no matter how hard he squinted at the board. Finally, he stepped up to the counter, where an annoyed looking girl awaited him. When she saw him, it was almost as if she went through a metamorphosis. He almost cringed – he hoped she didn't recognize him. Everyone wanted to be noticed by adoring fans until they actually became famous.

Thankfully, she didn't know who he was. "Hi, how are you today?" Hopefully she didn't, anyway. She wasn't drooling over him _too_ much. He was glad he never put his photograph on his CD covers and always shied away from any public appearances.

"I'm, uh… great. Hey, I was wondering where the White Chocolate and Cinnamon Mocha is… I must be blind or something, but I can't find it up there."

She sighed. "Oh, I'm so sorry… We don't make that anymore."

He was startled. How could they take away their best drink? "Um, what?"

"Yeah, I know, right? That was my favorite too, 'cause I guess we're like the same age. But they just took it off the menu, just like that." She shrugged.

This was a bit of a shock to him. It wasn't just the fact that he couldn't have the drink. It was just another lost memory. Had it really been that long?

The girl must have seen his disappointed face, because she leaned in close. "Look, if you really want, I can make you one. I still make them for myself cause I remember how to."

He looked up. "Really? Oh, that'd be awesome! Great!" He smiled a tiny bit. Maybe it wasn't too late. It seemed like it, but there was always a way. He couldn't just give up.

She smiled back. "Okay! One White Chocolate and Cinnamon Mocha, coming right up!"

He blinked. "Oh, wait… Um, could you make that two?"

A hint of disappointment crossed her face. "Sure. You here with someone?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

She laughed. "That makes sense. I should have known you'd be with a girl. She's a lucky one! You tell her I said so, okay?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "Um, yeah. Okay." She wasn't lucky. He was, even though they weren't together anymore. He was the luckiest guy in the world because she'd agreed to meet him, after everything he'd done.

When the drinks were done, he paid the woman and took them, carrying them over to the corner booth by the window where they had always sat. And there he waited for her.

It seemed like forever. The drinks were slowly cooling, though steam still curled from the tops of them. Every time the door opened and the little bell chimed, he glanced up to see if it was her. But every time, it was a stranger.

He checked the clock again. He had been early, and she was now late. How ironic. He was always the late one, and she always arrived everywhere before anyone else got there. But he guessed they'd both changed. As everyone and everything kept reminding him, it had been a long time.

His kept his eyes trained on the door now, but nobody who entered was her. He felt a rush every time he saw someone approaching, only to have it die down when he saw it wasn't her. Again, he couldn't find what he was looking for – or, more appropriately, who he was looking for.

Finally he saw a familiar girl with reddish-brown hair walk stiffly to the door. The steam from the drinks was long gone, but he hoped they were still a bit warm. The girl hesitated, then opened the door.

He was frozen. He didn't know what to do. Seeing her was somewhat of a mixture between comforting and intimidating. He knew her so well. She was always so warm and gentle. She only got angry when she really had a reason to be. But when she was, like now, she could scare the hell out of him.

It didn't take her long to find him, and when she did, she only paused for a second, her eyes wide. Then her face hardened and she crossed her arms, striding over briskly.

"Hey," he said, his eyes lighting up. He couldn't keep the smile off his face, and he stood up, stepping forward a bit, as if about to hug her.

She ignored him and sat down in the booth, across from where he was sitting. "Let's just get this over with," she said. "I have stuff to do."

The smile remained on his face as he sat down as well. He didn't care what she said. All he cared was that he was sitting across from her. She was really there. She was a living person again, not just the ethereal being who only appeared in his dreams.

"I got you a drink," he said, pushing it over the table to her. "It's a White Chocolate and Cinnamon Mocha. Remember those?"

"No," she said. "You shouldn't have done that. How much do I owe you." There was no emotion in her voice – it was monotonous and dull.

"No, don't worry about it. It's on me."

She shrugged. "Whatever. I guess you can afford it." She lifted the cup gingerly and took a sip. Setting it down, she swallowed, then glared at the drink, though he was sure she really wanted to glare at him. "It's nearly cold," she told him.

He finally drank from his as well. "Yeah, I guess so… Here, do you want me to get another one?"

"No. This is a thousand times better than anything I expected from you."

"Um… I guess I can take that as a compliment. See, I _have_ changed! Or else it'd be a thousand times worse!"

Her eyes shot up from the drink and narrowed at him. "Was that an attempt at a joke? I certainly hope not. But then again, you can't be serious. You're still the same immature asshole as before."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, I really am. But I have changed."

She shook her head. "Is that why you begged me to meet you here? To tell me that? Do you know how much you've said sorry to me before? I already _know_ you're sorry, okay?" She grabbed her bag. "I'm leaving."

"Wait, please," he said. "That's not what I came to tell you."

She hesitated, glaring at him.

"Well, it's part of what I came to tell you. I _have_ changed. I don't do that kind of stuff anymore. When you… When you left, I told myself I was going to change. And now I have. I really am different. I'm a better person now."

"How do you expect me to believe that?" she asked.

"Ask anyone. Really. Ask Tai or TK or anyone. They'll tell you."

She glanced down. "They… they have been telling me. For awhile now. I just… It's been too long, okay?" She looked up again. "You really hurt me. But I got over it with time. It's been a long time, but I'm finally better. Why would I want to give you a chance to mess up my life again?"

He closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry. I know I was terrible. I know I made your life hell. I know I hurt you so much. That's why I changed, because I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't live being the same person who had done those things." He took a deep breath. "But here I am. I've changed. Please believe me."

She was listening, and she wasn't glaring at him anymore. But she just shook her head. "Why should I trust you? You've given me no reason to believe anything you say."

"Then… See for yourself. Please. Just… spend some time with me, and then you'll see how much I've changed."

She took a sip of her drink. "God, this takes me back," she muttered. Then she sighed. "I just don't know, okay? I… it's been a long time. I have to think about it."

"I have a gig tomorrow," he said. "But I have tons of free time after that. If you wanted to hang out, I don't have anything until next month."

"I thought you were supposed to be writing your new songs," she said.

He glanced up. "What?"

She bit her lip. "I read that somewhere." Her cheeks were pink. "It's not like I'm stalking you or anything."

He grinned. "Are you sure?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Don't flatter yourself. Like you mean anything to me."

He knew her last statement wasn't true, so it didn't bother him.

"Anyway, I've already written a bunch of new songs. I'm playing a few of them tomorrow." He glanced around. "Damn, I don't have a flyer… Well, Tai, Mimi, Joe, TK, Kari, and Yolei are going."

"So?"

"So… if you want to give me a second chance, just come, okay? It doesn't have to mean anything. You can just come as an old friend. Or you don't have to come. And you don't have to tell me now. I'll just assume if you're there, then you want to spend some time with me and see how I've changed. No strings attached, you can just get to know the new me. As friends. And… if you're not there… I'll assume you never want to see me again."

She blinked. "That's kind of an ultimatum, isn't it?"

"Not really. I just need to know. If you don't see any chance for us, as friends, don't show up. If you hate my guts, if you don't want to give me another chance, then don't show up. But… if you care at all… Just come. Please."

"I'll see," she said. She picked up her cup and stood up. "I have to go now. Bye."

He took a deep breath, knowing very well it could be the last time he'd ever see her. "Bye," he said.

And with that, she walked out of the café, without so much as a glance behind.

_Well, did you like it:3 Please review and let me know what you think! If enough people want to see what happens, I can write a second part to it... But, just to warn you, I don't always write happy endings. x3_

_By the way, if you forgot from the summary or something, it was Yamato and Sora. Just in case you didn't get it, or something. o-o;_


End file.
